Love and Other Crimes
by Clary Fray 1991
Summary: Clary Fray-Garroway is the step-daughter of a rich man. She lives the life of a princess, what with going to the most famous boarding school in America and having an entire wing of the house to herself. When her mother's new car is stolen from a parking lot with her in it, her life changes. But is this life the one she wants or the one she has to get away from? AU/AH
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, everyone. I'm Aishwarya (pronounced ush-war-ya). I have another account on but that is used to write fics for The Vampire Diaries. This one will be used for TMI. Please feel free to check out my fics on my other page, Elena Gilbert 1992. The one called Yours is very, very dark and M-rated, and all of them contain bad words. You've been warned. This fic is loosely based on the book Girl, Stolen. It's about a blind girl whose mother's car is stolen-with her in it. This story isn't completely like it. Also, the pairings for this fic are Clace, Sizzy, Malec, all that shit, and it's AU and AH (if you don't know what that is, I'm guessing you live in a barn...No offense). Although I don't own TMI or any of the characters, I sure do own what I write. Enjoy!**

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Chapter 1

"Clary, I don't think it's right to leave you in here with the keys in the ignition. Luke just bought this for me yesterday. If it gets stolen..." Jocelyn trailed off. Clary groaned. Her mother was so annoying.

"Would you rather let your daughter freeze to death?" She challenged.

Jocelyn sighed. "But, Clary, dear-"

Clary cut her off. "Don't you _Clary, dear _me! Really, mom, what's the chance that a robber is going to wander on this very street at this moment?"

"Fine. But pay attention to who comes and goes." Jocelyn said in defeat. She walked away with the driver's side door open just a crack and the heater on.

Clary let her head fall back against the seats. Who'd have known that she would get the flu in the middle of her blissfully beautiful summer vacation? A week ago, she'd started coughing and throwing up, but her mother thought it was diarrhea. Until this morning, when Clary woke up and found out she was running a temperature of 104 degrees. Her mother rushed her to the family doctor, Alaric, leaving nine-year old Max, her adopted brother, at home with the maid. At the doctor's office, she found out that she had the flu and Alaric said she needed to be put on antibiotics. So here she was, sitting in a Walgreen's parking lot with the heat on, although it was a hot summer afternoon. So much for next week's Ice Bucket challenge at the Country Club's pool.

The sun was getting in Clary's eyes. She pulled the blanket over her head, but that didn't work. Then, grumbling, she put on her Ray-Ban sunglasses and went under the blanket again. Now that was much better.

* * *

Jace was walking to Walgreen's, humming absently to himself. Stupid Isabelle and her makeup crisis. Wiping her face with a rag wasn't going to incinerate her features, was it, now? But no, she wanted her Maybelline Eye Makeup Remover immediately, before Simon saw her smudged mascara. What a drama queen. Simon wasn't going to break up with her for messing up her makeup.

He passed a shiny black Mercedes that looked very, very new. There was a plush blanket thrown carelessly in the backseat. Jace shook his head disappointedly and went into the store. He quickly grabbed the Maybelline Eye Makeup bottle thingy, paying for it in cash and not waiting for the cashier to give him change. A pretty red-haired woman smiled at him. She seemed to be waiting for a prescription. He smiled back smugly and left the store just as fast as he'd entered.

As he walked past the Mercedes once more, he felt heat coming from inside. Then he noticed that the door was open a bit, the keys in the ignition. His eyes widened. Jace glanced around to make sure nobody was looking. Nobody was. It didn't take him long to make the decision of what to do.

Jace silently slipped into the car with his bag, closing the door.

* * *

Clary heard the door of the car close in her half-asleep state. "Mom? How are you back already?" She didn't emerge from the blanket, though.

Someone gasped. "Where the hell did you come from?"

"Who the hell are _you_? And why are you in my mom's car?" Clary demanded. Her mother was right. Someone _did _get tempted by the car.

"What do you _think_? I'm stealing it. Are you honestly that stupid?" It was a boy's voice, slightly deep.

"Get out of here! Or I'll scream!" She threatened. The boy seemed unfazed.

"Too bad. We're leaving." The boy actually sounded bored. How was he bored?

"We?!" Clary yelled incredulously. "What makes you think I'll come anywhere with you?"

"Well, you've already seen my face, so I have no choice but to take you, too." He explained calmly.

At that moment, Clary had an idea. She was wearing sunglasses, and she hadn't shown her face yet, so maybe she could pretend that she was blind.

"I-I'm blind," She said as the engine started, hoping to God that he would believe her. She slowly came out from under her cover, looking everywhere but the boy's face.

As the car left the parking lot, Clary knew she had very less time to escape. "Oh, really? Take off your sunglasses to show me!" The boy ordered.

"It's considered rude to ask a blind person to take their glasses off." Clary said, her voice a bit shaky. Through the heat and her blanket, a certain fear had crept in, and it felt like there were icicles piercing her skin. She shivered.

"Oh."

They were nearing an alley now. Clary knew it was now or never. "Let me off. I won't tell anyone."

The boy laughed. "No, I won't! I'm not an idiot, you know." Clary could see him smiling, but glanced away.

"Please," She begged.

He sighed. "All right. There's an alley coming up. I'll help you out."

A second later, Clary heard the car come to a stop. She breathed out in relief. The boy opened the door, got out, and tugged Clary out of the car slowly. He led her to the alley as she pretended to feel around. Then, once she was on her own, the boy got back in. She started holding her hand out to fake-find the wall, but slipped. As she regained her balance, the sunglasses fell from her face as she continued walking. Forgetting to keep up the blind person act, Clary whirled around and picked up her sunglasses, not knowing that the boy was watching her carefully.

For a fraction of a second, she stared at him, wide-eyed, and then turned back around and ran.

The boy hopped out of the car to follow her. Clary was unnaturally slow today, because of her fever, and her footsteps were a bit more sluggish as well. She screamed. "Somebody help me! Help!"

But he caught her.

He dragged her back to the car as she yelled and kicked and scratched him anywhere she could reach, yet he didn't even flinch. She screeched, and then there was something cold and metallic-feeling against her head. Clary stopped breathing, and looked to the side. It was a gun. This was bad. This was very, very bad.

"Now," The boy hissed, "You're going to shut up, get in the car, and come with me without making a sound. Otherwise, I'll be forced to use this, and you don't want me to now, do you?" He asked. Clary shook her head. She was even more scared than she'd been before. What would he do after he got to wherever he was taking her? Would he kill her, rape her, torture her in any way? She hoped not.

He shoved her into the back of the brand-new car, still not moving the gun from its aim at her forehead, and Clary whimpered as she clicked her seatbelt into place. The boy started the car and began driving again. He looked angry, his golden eyes burning with a deadly fury. He ran a hand through his fair hair.

"Wh-what are you going to do to me?" Clary whispered.

"Shut. _Up._" He answered, but lowered the gun after Clary ducked her head down. "Listen. I'm putting this away now, but if you say a single word, I'll shoot you. And it'll hurt. So if you want to live, keep your mouth closed until we get home."

"It's not my house, anyways," Clary muttered. The boy's head snapped back to look at her.

"_What _did I just say?"

"To be quiet."

"Thank you." He turned the air-conditioner on. "Who the hell turns the heater on in the middle of summer?" He asked himself.

To this, Clary didn't give a clever retort, but pretty soon, she was shivering. "Can you _please _turn the heater back on? I'm sick."

"Yeah, nice try. I can't trust you after that stunt you just pulled." He said, turning a corner that led to a deserted road. Clary bit her lip anxiously.

"Where are you taking me?" She demanded, adding a little strength to her voice. After all, it was hard to be brave when you were nearly a foot shorter than the person who was kidnapping you.

"No questions, little girl." The boy replied, to which Clary rolled her eyes.

This was going to be a long, long journey.

* * *

**Yeah, I wasn't sure where to end it. And also, please don't mind it being short. This is my first time in months of writing without a beta (and if you don't know what that is, then do you live in a barn? No offense). Pretty please with a cherry on top review and favorite and maybe even follow this story. It gives me a lot of inspiration when that happens. Have a good day.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello again. No words. Read. NOW. This got deleted halfway in. Fuck stupid fanfiction. (I mean the site)**

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Chapter 2

Clary was right.

It had been only twenty minutes since the boy had taken her mother's car, but it felt like a million years. The boy was driving with his jaw clenched, and he looked like he was having a hard time restraining himself from hitting her. The car was now zooming along at illegal speed on a deserted dirt road, and Clary was shivering like hell because the temperature in the car was only sixty-nine degrees.

She decided to speak to him, because the silence was pain-stakingly annoying. "So...what's your name?"

"Jace. Jace Wayland," Jace answered with gritted teeth. "Stop talking to me."

"Geez, someone's grumpy," Clary muttered. "Are you a teenager?" She asked, mostly out of curiosity, but also to possibly talk her way into escaping, which she knew wouldn't be easy.

Jace's features softened. "Yes, I'm seventeen."

"Not many seventeen year olds have guns. I'm pretty sure it's illegal."

"Well, I'm not a normal teen, little girl, though I may look like one." He retorted.

Clary narrowed her eyes. "My name isn't _little girl_. It's Clary."

"Whatever. We're here." For once, Clary looked out the window. A three-story house the color of light blue stood tall among uncut weeds and grass. Jace parked the car in the garage, where there was a big blue truck. What was with these people and the color blue? He got out of the car with his Walgreen's bag, and opened the back door for Clary to get out. The second she did, Jace grabbed her arm harshly and pulled her to the door. Clary muttered the words 'fuck you' under her breath.

He tried opening it, but it was locked. He cursed and pounded his fist on it roughly. It swung open just as he was about to hit it the fourth time. A tall girl stood in the doorway, her long black hair half-braided. The linings of her wide brown eyes were smeared black with makeup, which Clary guessed was an accident.

Jace pushed Clary into the house, where she stumbled and hit a wall. Isabelle stood there, shocked. Then Jace locked the car and closed the garage, coming in as well.

"Here's your makeup remover, Isabelle." He stated, shoving the bag into Isabelle's hands.

"Jace," Isabelle said. Jace was busy looking for something in the drawers.

"_Jace_," She said again.

Jace looked at her, annoyed. "What? Did I get you the wrong brand? I don't care."

"No, the brand is right, but I didn't ask for a car and a girl with it!" Isabelle yelled. "What the hell is the meaning of this? Did you steal the car, or is she here to sleep with you?"

Clary let out a nervous laugh. "Sleep-_sleep _with him? No way. Never." She was beet red.

Just then, Jace emerged with a roll of duct tape and scissors in his hands. "Well, I guess if she wanted to, I would sleep with her, but that doesn't look like it's going to happen." He shrugged. "Now give me your hands."

About to scream a protest at Jace, Clary opened her mouth, but it was Isabelle who spoke first. "What? No! Go take her back where she came from."

"That isn't likely to happen either. I don't want freckle-face to tattletale to her mother, or worse, the police. They must already be searching for the car."

Isabelle sighed and sat down at the massive dining table. "You're right about that. Once Valentine gets here, we'll decide what to do. He always says, you should plan things out before you steal a car."

_Wait, what? _Clary thought. _So everyone in this house is essentially a criminal?_

Clary had slowly started inching toward the garage door. She knew she didn't have the keys to the car, but she could get back to the main road by running, couldn't she? Jace and Isabelle were deep in conversation-no, argument, about what to do with her until whoever this Valentine creepo was got there. She was just about to get the door open when Jace glanced at her.

"Oh, no, you don't." He said, walking towards her. Clary whirled and opened the door running down the steps and out of the garage. Jace was hot on her trail, but she didn't give up. But as she reached about half a mile away from the house, Jace grabbed at her and she tripped on a rock hidden by the yellowish sand and fell hard on her knees, her forehead scraping against the ground. She winced, tears pricking at her eyes.

Jace tried to help her up, knowing that she was hurt, but Clary couldn't stand all that well, and she collapsed again. There was blood all over the sand, and when she looked at her knees, she saw that her jeans were thoroughly torn where she was hurt. Clary started to bawl big, childish sobs, tears running down her face. It was just too much for her. The stupid flu, then the car being stolen, _everything_. She felt a pair of hands under her legs picking her up, letting them swing. It was Jace.

"See? You shouldn't have run." He started, but then Clary saw an ounce of pity in his eyes through her tears. "Shh. It's nothing to cry about. Just a-um, _few_ scratches."

They were getting awfully close to the house now. For a second, Clary forgot that this was the person who'd just kidnapped her and was willing to do anything, even point a gun at her just so she'd go with him. She buried her face in his shirt and sobbed. Wait, was this sympathizing with her captor? It had been only half an hour!

Then Clary felt air-conditioning surround her. She was set down gently on a chair, and she sniffled, rubbing her eyes.

"Oh, you poor thing," Isabelle said. "Here, I'll fix this up for you in a minute."

"I told her she shouldn't have-"

"Jace! Stop talking! This is all your fault, you know." scolded Isabelle.

Jace 'hmmphed'. "I was just saying."

Isabelle moved aside what fabric was left on the knees of Clary's jeans and wiped the scarlet red blood off her split skin. She poured antiseptic on a cotton ball and dabbed it on the cuts. Once that was over, she put Neosporin on there and helped Clary up.

"So, what do we do now?" She asked Jace casually.

Jace shrugged. "I think we should tie her up and lock her in the basement." He suggested.

"No way. She's already hurt. I don't think she'll be able to run anywhere for a while." Isabelle protested. Clary stood numbly with tired eyes. Now she was cold again.

He sighed in response. "Well, then. Maybe we could just lock her in my room upstairs. The window's jammed."

Isabelle nodded absentmindedly, playing with a lock of her hair. "I suppose. Go do it if you want. I'm calling Valentine to tell him about everything."

"Don't," Jace warned. "He'll get pissed off, like, a lot."

"I will anyway. The sooner he gets home with the boys, he'll be able to deal with the situation."

He waved it off. "Fine, fine, call him." He gestured for Clary to follow him upstairs, and she did, limping up at half the speed Jace was moving at.

"Sorry." Clary rasped. Her voice sounded like sandpaper.

"Why are you sorry? You've got a punishment for trying to escape again." Jace reasoned. He was right.

Clary's bottom lip trembled as they reached the end of the stairs. "What are you going to do to me now?" She asked.

Jace ran a hand over his face. "I have no idea." His voice was irritated but he sounded exhausted at the very same time.

He nudged her into a big, posh bedroom. There was a bed with huge, fluffy seats in the middle of the room, and to its sides were two side tables with antique-looking lamps on them. A pine dresser stood in the corner, and there were various photo frames lined across the top. Clary had to admit that she was shocked. If Jace's family was so rich, then why did he need to steal cars?

Oh, right. They got money out of selling stolen cars.

"I'm leaving for now," Jace's voice snapped her out of her mini-trance. "I'll come back in a few hours. Don't try to jump out or unlock the door with anything. It won't work."

Clary stared down at her Converse and nodded silently. Soon Jace was gone, and he'd locked the door from the outside as he'd told her.

_Oh, hell_, She thought, _What have I gotten myself into?_

* * *

**And, um, that is kind of it. I didn't really know where to stop. Thanks for reading, and sorry for the late update. The past week was just busy. School started today and my parents are out for a walk so here I am, writing. Please review because it makes me feel good and thank you to all the kind reviewers and favoriters and followers of this story. You bring my heart up when the rest of me is down. (What up Sam Smith reference?!)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Good day, evening, morning, afternoon, whatever. How are you all? I'm wonderful. I finally got COHF from the library! Here's your chapter!**

**Oh, yes:**

**ILoveMeSomeCaptainAmerica: I am also happy that Clary didn't become a sick love puppy. Bu she will be falling in love with Jace pretty soon.**

* * *

Chapter 3

_A tower bell chimed._

_There was a harsh wind blowing Clary's red curls over her face and she was struggling to keep them behind her ears. The bell sounded soft, at first, but then, it grew louder and louder, and Clary gave up on plugging her ears. Chiming turned into high-pitched wailing, the wind increasing in pressure. Clary was brought to her knees, and she held onto a lamp post to keep from being pushed back and forth. She shut her eyes tightly and prayed that the noise and wind would end._

_And it did._

_It was dark now. Clary could barely see her own hands, her glow-in-the-dark nailpolish being the only light, and even then, it wasn't enough. She looked around frantically._

_"Mom? Luke?" She yelled. No answer. _

_Clary tried again. "MOM! LUKE! Where _are _you?" Once more, there wasn't an answer. _

_Clary saw a faint golden light in front of her. She squinted, trying to figure out what it was. Then it disappeared. Clary turned everywhere, but she didn't see the light anymore. _

_Another golden flash. This time Clary knew she wasn't hallucinating. She yelled the first name that came to mind that reminded her of that color. _

_"Jace?" _

_"Yes, Clary?" Jace's tawny eyes burned into her. Where the hell did he appear from?_

_"What-what is this? Where am I? What are you doing here?" She asked._

_"You're here because you're all mine now. All mine..."_

_Clary started gasping for air. Her throat felt like a bricked-up pathway, and she clutched it, desperately trying to make it work again. As she collapsed onto her knees, Jace pulled her up by the arm._

_"Get up, Clary. Get up." Jace whispered. "Get up..."_

"Clary!"

She screamed and clawed at the person who was crouching in front of her. He caught her wrists and held them above her head tightly.

"What the fuck?" Jace shouted, huffing a breath of relief. "Damn it. I thought you were dead." He let her hands go.

"Jesus," Clary breathed out. The words 'all mine' echoed in her head. "Just a nightmare. Just a nightmare." When had she fallen asleep? It only felt like minutes since Jace had left her in the bedroom.

Jace sighed. "Apparently, you aren't dead. Great. Valentine will be happy to know that. He sent me to get you." He explained. "Come on."

For the first time, Clary noticed where she was sitting. She was leaning against the front of the bed frame, and she grabbed the bedpost, making a feeble attempt to stand. Her knees buckled, though, and her bottom hit the hardwood panels painfully. She winced.

"Oh, right," Jace said. "You're injured. Here, take my hand." He suggested. Clary wrapped her fingers around his smooth, beautifully tanned golden skin, and he hoisted her up and onto her feet. A few seconds passed, and Jace looked at her expectantly. She released her grip on his forearm and rubbed her own hand on her shirt as if Jace was a contagious specimen and she wanted to get rid of the germs.

Jace opened the door and led Clary out. Instead of going downstairs the way they'd come, he walked around. "This is Alec's room. His boyfriend Magnus stays sometimes. Then there's Izzy's room, which she shares with Simon, and that's Valentine's room, all the way down the hall." He pointed to the only door different from all the others. It was made of white oak.

"Is that the attic, upstairs?" Clary asked, gesturing to another flight of stairs.

Jace shook his head. "We have our study up there. And, of course, a room filled with Simon's Star Wars collectibles and video games. There's a music room there, too. The walls are covered in bookcases." He explained. "The floor above that is the attic. Valentine doesn't let us go up there."

"Oh," Clary said. "Well, it's a big house. There's a basement, too, isn't there?"

He simply nodded in response and helped her limp down the stairs slowly. At the dining table, Isabelle was sitting expectantly, talking to a boy with glasses and wavy brown hair. In the seat across from her, there was another boy, with bright blue eyes and black hair like Isabelle's. Clary guessed that he was her brother. A man whose hair was a silvery-white had his lips set into a cold, thin line and when he saw Jace come down the stairs, he narrowed his eyes, in what Clary guessed was anger.

"You must be Clarissa," The man said. Clary just knew from his tone of voice that he was severely pissed off at Jace and also that this was Valentine. He looked freaky. Clary hid behind Jace like a child, peeking out from behind him.

Jace pushed her ahead of him and crossed his arms. Clary stumbled on reluctantly."Yes," Clary answered. "I'm Clary."

"Sit down. Your jeans are bloody. Did you fall?" Valentine asked.

"Yeah, actually." She shot a look at Jace, who shrugged, and then sat down in one of the empty chairs. She copied his moves and sat down in front of the boy with the nerdy glasses.

"I have a few questions to ask you."

"Fine," She replied.

Valentine set his hands down on the table. "First of all, I want to know the names of your family members."

Clary raised an eyebrow. Weird. She'd expected him to, like, torture her to get answers. "I have a stepfather name Luke. Luke Garroway. My mother's name is Jocelyn, and-"

Valentine cut her off. "Is her name Jocelyn Fray?"

"Yes, it is. How did _you _know?" She demanded.

"I remember reading an article about the CEO of Readers' Digest who married for the second time," He explained, a smirk on his face. Clary uneasily leaned into the back of the chair, the corners of her mouth twisted into a frown. "Second question. If I supposedly asked your father for money, in return for you, how much would he give me?"

Clary huffed. "I'm not telling you that. I know what you'll do next. You'll call him. And then demand ransom money. If he can't get the money in time, you'll kill me." She growled.

Isabelle tapped the heel of her boot against a chair leg, and the nerdy guy murmured something that sounded like, "I'm not getting involved in this." Jace shifted in his seat, examining his nails. After a moment's silence, he said, "As long as your stepfather gets the money, no killing will be required."

"Well, isn't that pleasant?" Clary retorted. "You fucking bastard! How dare you fucking let your cocky-as-fuck kid kidnap me?! Where's the fucking humanity, huh? And YOU!" She screamed, turning to Jace.

"Why the fuck did you even steal my mom's car in broad fucking daylight? Couldn't somebody have, oh, I don't know, _caught you_? I can make you fucking go to jail with a fucking snap of my finger. So take me the fuck home and pray I don't fucking tell the police!"

Valentine, along with everyone else, was cringing and staring at Clary like she was retarded. He cleared his throat and calmly said, "Jace, please take her upstairs."

Jace stood up with a shug and pulled Clary's chair out. He pulled her up by the arm and dragged her to the stairs grimly.

They'd reached the top of the stairs when Jace smacked the back of Clary's head. "What is _with _you? You don't talk to Valentine like that. Bad move, showing off your prissy, rich brat smarts. Now he's going to ask your parents for some hundred thousand dollars and you can go 'home' to a nearly bankrupt family."

Clary rubbed the back of her head and coughed. Then she coughed once more. And again and again. Once they were inside the bedroom, Jace softened up a little and tossed a bottle of water at her. "You're lucky you're at least getting this. If it was up to Valentine, he would starve you." He opened a drawer and moved things around in it while Clary sipped the water in satisfaction. Finally, he handed her a notepad and a pen. "Write down your stepfather's phone number."

Clary crossed her arms. "No."

"You have to."

"No!" She replied, irritated.

"_Clary_," Jace spoke in such a chilling voice that Clary got goosebumps and she picked up the pen and scribbled Luke's number on the paper as fast as she could.

Jace smiled half-heartedly and in a much gentler voice, said "Thank you."

"Oh, you're _so _fucking welcome." She said, voice dripping with sarcasm. Before she'd even finished her sentence, Jace had left. _  
_

Clary sighed, opening a drawer. A large array of books was stacked neatly inside. She picked up _Legend _and flopped down onto the bed, wincing at the burning in her knees. Her head was throbbing. Maybe she could read this to forget the pain...

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**Yeah, yeah, the end is short, but hey, at least I found time in boatloads of homework to update. I promise you, next chapter might be a little more CLACE than before. Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews. Please review this time as well. It makes me smile.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi. It's me again, after only a few days...I think. How is everyone? I have almost no homework today. Just studying for a test tomorrow, which is easy, because it's math.**

**To Guest: No, I know the book it's based on. The name is Girl, Stolen. Girl, Lost is a book by the same author.**

**Let me say one thing...There is just Clace, Clace, Clace this chapter. Could be angsty...but who cares, right?**

* * *

Jace hurried out of his bedroom, sighing and running a hand over his face again and again. He hated this girl already. And it had been only six or seven hours since he'd brought her here! She was being so...bratty.

As he reached the dining table, he looked at the number Clary had given him to make sure it wasn't random. The area code seemed right. He hastily sat down into his chair and slid the notepad towards Valentine. "Here's your phone number."

Valentine gave him a slight smile. "Thank you, Jace. I'll call very soon and ask for the money."

"How much are you going to ask for?" Isabelle piped up, running a hand through her long black hair.

"Maybe a hundred grand, maybe a million. You never know..." He answered. Isabelle's jaw hit the floor.

"Valentine, but-but if our bank account gains a million dollars overnight, we'll get caught!" Alec protested.

"Not if I specify that I want cash," Valentine said, a sly smirk on his face. "Anyways, Alec, call Magnus and tell him we need his help for tonight's heist."

Jace tipped his chair back. "Who's going to watch the girl?"

"The _girl _has a name, Jace, for your very kind information. It's Clary," Isabelle reminded him.

"I don't give a crap."

"You should, because you were the one who kidnapped her!"

"Children," Valentine said sternly. "Stop fighting. And Jace, you're the one who's going to watch her."

Jace's chair dropped to the floor. "No!" He yelled. "Why _me_?" He whined.

"Because you kidnapped her."

"Ha!" Isabelle laughed. "It's all on you, asswipe!"

"_Asswipe? _Where the fuck did that come from?" Jace countered in surprise.

Valentine was frustrated. "Children!" He yelled sharply. "Stop fighting, already, would you?"

Jace and Isabelle sighed. "Fine."

"For your use of profanity and for fighting for absolutely no reason, you have to stay home as well, Isabelle." Valentine said.

"_WHY?!_"

Simon snorted, pushing his glasses up his nose. "That rhymed. You know, the 'you have to stay home as well, Isabelle'."

Isabelle gritted her teeth while Jace and Alec fought back laughter. "He's making me stay home, and you're thinking about _rhyming words_?! How dare you!"

Jace and Alec sputtered and then roared, their faces turning red.

"Stop it! THIS ISN'T FUNNY!" Isabelle screamed, tears welling up in her eyes. She abruptly stood from her chair and stormed up the stairs, bursting into tears. "I want to _go_!"

"Boys," Valentine said quietly. "You know we never take her anywhere. It really isn't a joke."

"Well, it's not our fault that she's narcoleptic. And anyways, she's learned to control it." Jace replied modestly.

"Not always." Valentine answered, then sighed. "Simon, Jace, go upstairs and apologize, please. Alec, call Magnus."

Simon and Jace got up, pushed their chairs in, and walked upstairs as Alec dialed Magnus' number.

* * *

"Stop it! THIS ISN'T FUNNY!" Clary heard Isabelle scream. She looked up from her book just as Isabelle stormed into the room and shuffled around in the drawers for something. Her face was red and there were tear tracks on her cheeks.

"Isabelle?" She asked. "Something wrong?"

Isabelle sobbed. "Everything's wrong. I-I have narcolepsy, so Valentine and the others don't even let me leave the house, not even to water plants, because they're afraid I'll fall asleep and hurt myself falling down! This time, I'd finally learned to control it a little, and-and everyone except Jace is going out to steal that car. Valentine just said I couldn't go because I was fighting with Jace, and then Simon made a nerdy comment and Jace and Alec laughed, and-and it's so _mean_! Now watch what I do to Jace's crystal ball."

Clary giggled a little. "It's a glass ball. I doubt it's that precious. But I'm sorry about what happened."

"To Jace it is," Isabelle sniffed at the air. "Here we go." She pulled out a clear crystal ball with the initals J.C on it. She threw it in the air and caught it a few times, until someone hysterically gasped from outside.

"Isabelle," Jace warned. "Don't you dare. My crystal ball-"

"No one gives a fuck about your stupid crystal ball but you."

"Izzy, babe, put it down, will you?" The guy with the nerdy glasses suggested in a soft tone. "We're sorry about what happened. Maybe you can come with us next time."

Isabelle chucked the ball at the mattress, where it narrowly missed Clary's head. Jace didn't pay any attention to her, but hurriedly picked up the ball from the satin covers and held it close, rubbing it clean and shiny. 'Izzy' whimpered as the nerdy glasses guy pulled her in for a hug.

"Come on, Isabelle, even Jace is staying home. I promise, I'll make Valentine bring you along with us the next time we go out."

"But, Simon," Isabelle cried.

Simon rubbed her back and took her out of the room as she wiped her eyes.

Clary slumped back onto the bed and cleared her throat. "Well, that was, um...aggressive."

Jace was neatly tucking his precious belonging into a drawer. "It was. Now shut up and do whatever you were doing."

Clary glowered at Jace as he closed the door and locked it.

* * *

It wasn't until Clary heard the garage door open that she finally took her eyes off the book. It was seven o'clock.

_Jocelyn and Luke must be worried sick. _She thought. She closed the book and dragged herself off the bed, avoiding putting pressure on her knees. The entire house was silent, and she wondered if everyone was gone, or if Jace and Isabelle had stayed like they were supposed to. Where were they going, though? Clary had no idea.

Clary looked for a light switch and when she found one, she turned it on and fumbled with the doorknob. It wasn't budging. Jace had locked it from the outside. She twisted it harder, hoping it would give. Her stomach grumbled. Man, was she hungry. And sweaty. She put a hand to her forehead. It was burning hot. Clary took a deep breath. How long could a person last without food? At least two days, but with the flu? The chances were less.

Suddenly, Clary heard a key turn on the other side of the door. She let go of the doorknob and stepped back just as it swung open. Jace had a plate and glass in his hands.

"I brought you food." He simply stated, thrusting the two items at her. "Eat this and put the plate and glass on the dresser."

He left without words. Clary thought that he was really a strange person. When he got mad, he could be scary, but otherwise, it looked like he wanted nothing to do with her.

She examined the contents of the plate. There was a toasted-Was it cheese?-sandwich and a tiny serving of potato wedges. It seemed edible enough, and even smelled good. Maybe it was drugged, and maybe there was poison in it, but Clary was ready to eat anything. She took a bite of the sandwich cautiously, and then snarfed it down so fast that even Adam Richman would have been impressed. It tasted good, better than it should have. Had Jace made it?

Once she was finished with all of the food, she gulped the water down. She had a bad headache. What was she going to do about her illness? Jace wouldn't believe her if she told him, like the other two times. He should have felt her temperature when he picked her up after she fell. It was possible that he could have thought it was due to the summer heat.

Clary climbed into the bed slowly, blocking out stressful thoughts. Right now, all she had to do was sleep, and then maybe in the morning when she woke up, either this would all be a dream, or her flu would have gotten better.

_It was dark again. And very, very hot. Clary was covered in sweat. Her hair stuck to her forehead and her clothes were uncomfortably clutching her body. _

_"Clary," Jace whispered, tucking a strand of her red curls behind her ear. He breathed down her neck as she shuddered, a wave of nausea passing through her. _

_"Stop," was all she could manage to get out before he tore the front of her shirt down. She felt like she was going to throw up. Maybe she would..._

Clary gasped and clamped a hand over her mouth. She was about to hurl. She tore herself out of bed and lunged at the door, frantically tugging at the doorknob. Nobody came to unlock the door. Bile rose in her throat. Oh, god, oh, god. She hoped she wouldn't vomit all over the floor. Finally, the door unlocked, and Jace stood in the doorway, the outline of his shirtless figure barely visible. If anything, Clary guessed that he was furious.

She didn't care, though. She shoved past him and opened every door to see which one was the bathroom. Thankfully, it was the third one she checked, so she rushed in and turned the light on. Clary gagged, and the contents of her stomach spilled out disgustingly into the toilet. She coughed and spit, bursting into tears. She couldn't hold it back anymore. She missed her family, and she was scared, and everything was so, _so _messed up.

As she retched once again, she felt cool hands pull her hair back. It felt nice. Tears were openly streaming down her face, she was embarrassed, and the bathroom smelled like crap, but now that her stomach was completely empty, she was feeling at least a little better. Clary collapsed against the edge of the bathtub and breathed deeply through her mouth.

"I believe you now. You do have a fever, don't you? It feels like a flu." He said gently.

Clary screamed in his face, and he shot back, shocked. "_Why?! _Why did you do this to me? I'm sick, and my family's far away! Why did you steal my mom's car? I hate you! _I fucking hate you so much!_" She started crying again. Footsteps echoed in the hallway.

"Jace? What on Earth is-Oh, fucking hell." Isabelle said in horror. "What _happened _to you?" She asked Clary.

"She's sick." Jace murmured softly.

"_And you brought her here, of all places? _She looks like she needs a doctor," Isabelle crouched in front of Clary. "Clary, can I take your temperature?"

Clary nodded numbly. Isabelle ran down the stairs quickly and grabbed the thermometer. Once she was back, she checked how much of a fever Clary had.

"A hundred and two degrees?!" She yelled. "No way. Jace, do we have any fever medicine?"

"I think," He replied.

"Will you go downstairs to see? If you find it, then bring it up with a glass of water." Isabelle ordered.

Clary rubbed her eyes, exhausted. She was thankful that this happened. At least she might get better. On the other hand, if her condition worsened, then they'd have to take her to a hospital, and there she might finally be able to go free.

"I'm sorry for what Jace did," Isabelle whispered. "You should understand. He's been through a lot. All of us have."

"What has he been through?" Clary asked.

Isabelle frowned. "His parents died in a car accident when he was twelve, and he was in the car with them when it happened. He was barely alive when they got him to the hospital, and even though they fixed him, he was in a coma for almost a month. Then, for the next year or so, he suffered from depression and tried to kill himself. Twice. Valentine adopted him after he'd attempted suicide for the second time. You could say that he got better after then, but he's still a little unstable, very rarely."

Clary was utterly shocked. "Oh, my god, that's just...sad." She choked out. "So, are you related to Valentine?"

"No, actually, Alec, the one with the blue eyes, he's my older brother. And I had a younger brother, too. His name was Max, but he died when he was five." She explained.

"I'm so sorry. You know, I have a little brother named Max. He's adopted. They said that he had two siblings older than him but they were missing." Clary said.

Isabelle's expression changed from sadness to confusion. "Wait-how old is he?"

Clary smiled slightly. "He's nine, and really, really sweet."

"If my brother was alive, he'd be nine, too."

Clary felt pity for Isabelle, and for Jace as well, but she was too tired to hold onto the subject for long. She'd probably get back to it later...if she hadn't gotten away by then.

"I found the medicine," Jace said, leaning against the door frame. He set a bottle and a glass full of water on the counter. Isabelle handed Clary a pill from the bottle and she swallowed it with the water.

Isabelle yawned. "You can go back to sleep now." She stood up and stumbled away.

Jace held out a hand for Clary, and she took it hesitantly. He pulled her into a standing position and walked her back to the bedroom she'd been in.

After she'd gotten under the covers, Jace pursed his lips, as if he wanted to say something. "I'm locking the door again. Call my name if something happens." He said.

Clary slumped onto the cushioned mattress, stretching and finding a good position to curl up in. As she fell asleep, she thought-maybe Jace wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

**So, I'm finishing this chapter around three to four days after I wrote that author's note at the top. This chapter is longer than the others, and I like it more than the previous three as well! Please review and a big thank you to the people who have stuck to this story up till now! Have a good night or day or whatever! :)**

**-Clary Fray 1991**


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